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Updated: June 10, 2025
So, Rodya dear, he may be of the greatest use to you, in every way indeed, and Dounia and I have agreed that from this very day you could definitely enter upon your career and might consider that your future is marked out and assured for you. Oh, if only this comes to pass! This would be such a benefit that we could only look upon it as a providential blessing. Dounia is dreaming of nothing else.
Pulcheria Alexandrovna was beginning, once more pressing Razumihin's hands, but Raskolnikov interrupted her again. "I can't have it! I can't have it!" he repeated irritably, "don't worry me! Enough, go away... I can't stand it!" "Come, mamma, come out of the room at least for a minute," Dounia whispered in dismay; "we are distressing him, that's evident."
"To my thinking, you, with all your virtues, are not worth the little finger of that unfortunate girl at whom you throw stones." "Would you go so far then as to let her associate with your mother and sister?" "I have done so already, if you care to know. I made her sit down to-day with mother and Dounia." "Rodya!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Dounia crimsoned, Razumihin knitted his brows.
"And Pyotr Petrovitch is a contemptible slanderer," Dounia snapped out, suddenly. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was crushed; the conversation was not resumed. "I will tell you what I want with you," said Raskolnikov, drawing Razumihin to the window. "Then I will tell Katerina Ivanovna that you are coming," Sonia said hurriedly, preparing to depart. "One minute, Sofya Semyonovna. We have no secrets.
At last he slowly turned, looked about him and passed his hand over his forehead. A strange smile contorted his face, a pitiful, sad, weak smile, a smile of despair. The blood, which was already getting dry, smeared his hand. He looked angrily at it, then wetted a towel and washed his temple. The revolver which Dounia had flung away lay near the door and suddenly caught his eye.
His malice was aimed at himself; with shame and contempt he recollected his "cowardice." The morning that followed the fateful interview with Dounia and her mother brought sobering influences to bear on Pyotr Petrovitch. Intensely unpleasant as it was, he was forced little by little to accept as a fact beyond recall what had seemed to him only the day before fantastic and incredible.
"I won't lose sight of him. Rodya has given me leave. He said to me himself just now. 'Take care of my sister. Will you give me leave, too, Avdotya Romanovna?" Dounia smiled and held out her hand, but the look of anxiety did not leave her face. Pulcheria Alexandrovna gazed at her timidly, but the three thousand roubles had obviously a soothing effect on her.
Though I don't know which of them would have caused most misery to the other he to her or she to him," Pulcheria Alexandrovna concluded. Then she began tentatively questioning him about the scene on the previous day with Luzhin, hesitating and continually glancing at Dounia, obviously to the latter's annoyance.
They had heard already from Nastasya all that had been done for their Rodya during his illness, by this "very competent young man," as Pulcheria Alexandrovna Raskolnikov called him that evening in conversation with Dounia. Raskolnikov got up, and sat down on the sofa.
"Proud creature! She won't admit she wants to do it out of charity! Too haughty! Oh, base characters! They even love as though they hate.... Oh, how I... hate them all!" "In fact," continued Dounia, "I am marrying Pyotr Petrovitch because of two evils I choose the less. I intend to do honestly all he expects of me, so I am not deceiving him.... Why did you smile just now?"
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